


Inside Infinity

by RoryFeoniks



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Astral Plane, Hurt Shiro (Voltron), Panic Attacks, Post Season 2, Shiro (Voltron) Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Shock, The infinity of Voltron’s Quintessence, Vague PTSD Flashbacks, mentions of torture, temporary memory loss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-05
Updated: 2018-09-05
Packaged: 2019-07-07 04:48:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15901197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoryFeoniks/pseuds/RoryFeoniks
Summary: First he was battling Zarkon with the other Paladins of Voltron and then everything goes black, but it doesn't stay that way.Shiro's transition to the infinity of Voltron’s quintessence isn't peaceful.





	Inside Infinity

**Author's Note:**

> Yikes! It's my first solo fanfic ever! And of course it would be about how tortured poor Shiro is, bless his poor soul. I'm excited to hear what you think!

In a flash of black, there was nothing.   
Until he’s convulsing in an attempt to gulp air. 

He begins reliving it all, like his life started with their torture, all his memories start there.

The terrifying force of his pulse pounding in the arena to keep him fighting throbs around his skull and he’s still gasping desperately for air.

Screams shredding through his ears of other combatants dieing miserably or being put through harrowing experiments to make them more efficient killers because the arena wasn’t for entertainment like everyone thought. No, he found out through blinding pain that the arena was a breeding ground for living weapons.

His throat is raw with active memories of shrieking in unadulterated agony stitched with raw nerve endings seared to copper, and the weight of unfamiliar metal. Flesh torn from his limb being replaced with robotics and they told him that the sedatives didn’t take but he’s always suspected that they just wanted to see if he could survive the pain. 

Tired of his noise, they force a muzzle on him that strains against the skin on the bridge of his nose and he feels the blood begin to roll down his face, mistaking it for tears, until he taste it, sharp against his tongue. 

His eyes finally open and, still struggling to breathe, he realizes that he’s….

Nowhere.

The panic blocks out the vague recollection of the place.

It’s nothing but twinkling starlight and aurora swirls of color.

His lungs seem to start functioning normally though his breath is still agonizingly rough and he blinks at the misplaced beauty around him. 

This has to be a trick, one of their torture devices, to lull him into a false sense of peace before ripping apart his brain again.

Without realizing it, he’s moving forward, calling names he can’t seem to remember clearly:

Keith.  
It feels comforting as he says this name.

Lance.  
Where is the feeling of laughter coming from?

Pidge.  
There’s a connection he can’t make there.

Hunk.  
Why does that name fill him with hope?

Princess.  
She’s more important than the title.

Coran.  
Why does he feel like smiling?

Nothing.

There’s no response.

He’s alone and it has to be a mind game but he’s still reeling from all of the memories he woke up to and can’t remember how to fight back.

There’s a soft rumble. It’s not meant to be but it’s terrifying. It’s terrifying because he can’t place it and it’s a sound that holds ancient power.   
He can feel it in his bones.   
He can feel it like it’s apart of his soul but he doesn’t remember it being a part of his soul.  
The intrusive feeling only heightens his panic and his eyes fly wide in an attempt to look for an escape. Running doesn’t seem like it would be helpful. Not only is the vastness of this plane give no place to hide, the sound is resonating within his own chest. 

And that’s when his mind finally cracks.

He drops to what he assumes are his knees and clutches his head. Tremors wrack through his muscles and he lists off the names again.   
Anyone?   
Is anyone there?

A gentle growl responds  
 _I am here, Paladin._

He hears it but there’s no sound. It deepens his fear of it.

_I am here, my Paladin._

What does it mean, Paladin? 

He recognizes it the way he does the names he list off like a prayer once again. Someone else has to be here.

_Paladin, calm yourself, you are safe._

There’s no physical sensation in his ears at the words. What is happening to him?

A deafening roar shakes him to the point that none of the invading memories can hold and he looks up, numb, to see a black robotic lion.   
It feels like home.

_What is your name?_  
The gentleness is overshadowed by pure authority.

He looks down and searches the expanse below him, calm settling in his heart.  
“I-I… I’m Shiro, Takashi Shirogane.”  
There’s power in a name and when he remembers his own, he finds his mind again. 

_Takashi Shirogane, who are you?_

He looks beneath himself again, drawing himself up to stand, “I’m a Paladin of Voltron.”

This growl is more like a pleased purr.  
 _You are the Black Paladin, **my** Paladin._

And that’s when he realizes where he is.

The infinity of Voltron’s quintessence.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I'm considering adding another work or two about how he adjusts to existence in the infinity of Voltron’s quintessence and reaching out to Lance and Keith. It mostly depends on what my brain decides to do because this one kinda came outta nowhere. Anyway! Let me know what you thought!


End file.
